The Words she Speak
Is havoc to the weak
Consumption of flesh
is her armour against the rays of truth,
gazing blindly into the void of her soul
 
Garm's tale ...
 
Stepping on downtrodden land
Wether by vermin or titans, the stage is set
for a circus of horrendous acts,
where the crowd reflects the loathing of a forlorn cause
Walking by glades of sanction,
beholding the dance of life
The whip is swung, beasts are unleashed
Further I cannot go,
their voices are fading
Tormented through wheels of fire, chased in an eternal trap
Jaws and claws tearing uselessly in humid air
Drawn back to the path of thorns,
Steel still steady in a shivering hand
 
The pain that hails me
is only perceived by
the shallow waters of my striving soul
The roar rises to a new climax, as the goddess of satisfaction
Moans through another fearsome hour of satiation
Beasts are driven uselessly around, an abomination of nature itself
Only the child can see, only the child can understand
Little does the child know, drinking the filth with angelic eyes
That the nature it secretly longs for,
is the phantom horror plagueing mankind in hunt eternal
Crystal mind, only shattered by the beams of light
Closes itself, closes the self.
Better to be swept in the silk of ignorance,
than the rags of pierced wisdom
 
The parasites, the filth
They all consume in vain
The face of his father
is cruely chiseled into a frame of stone
in him lies the wisdom, the wisdom of joy
and knowledge of accepting this mortal coil
Like an annoyance in the face of God
they will soon be laid to rest
 
O' Vortex of my inner self
Let not resignation capture me
The cage is closing
Like my fathers
The beasts is again behind bars
He is uselessly trapped
Like him, I'm clawing my way out of the womb of a childhoods nightmare
Fear and fire scorching me back to the wound from which I sprang
 
The wound he created
 
Sometimes I fear that my thoughts might be visible for all the world to see.